A friend recommended that I see “Life of Pi.” I had no interest in the film when it first hit theaters before Thanksgiving. I also had not read the book on which the film is based. I knew nothing about the plot, except that there’s this kid who’s stuck in a boat with a tiger. Nonetheless, I drove to Westbrook, bought a ticket at the Cinemagic there, picked a seat in the center of one of the rows, and settled down for the show.

I loved the movie. For two hours it kept me engaged with visuals as beautiful and stunning as any I have seen on screen, a story with a message that resonated and an ending that trusts the viewer to draw his or her own conclusions.

For all I’ve put into this miniature movie review, I wonder if you’re still stuck on that first sentence. He went to the movies alone?

Now, now. This is not the story of a lonesome guy who could not get either his wife or a friend to join him at the movies. While nothing is better than a date night with my wife, Valerie — we saw “This Is 40” on her birthday two weeks ago and plan to see “Silver Linings Playbook” this weekend — I do have a long history of sneaking off to the movies by myself once in a while.

I started doing this years ago. As a teenager, I would walk to the Sanford Cinema Center off Roberts Street and catch one of the four movies playing there on a Sunday afternoon. After a while, the manager there gave me a nickname, the Matinee Kid.

I was not a picky moviegoer. I had films I wanted to see, to be sure, but I thought nothing of going to the movies for the sake of going. During one autumn in high school, for example, I saw “Big,” starring Tom Hanks, “Imagine: John Lennon,” a documentary, “Dead Ringers,” a creepy psychological drama starring Jeremy Irons, and “Child’s Play,” the first of many horror films about Chucky the doll. A comedy, a documentary, a drama, and a horror, all in about a month or so.

I once took this solo-moviegoing to an extreme. Back in the year 2000, I took off the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. Valerie, however, had to work. I set out to see as many movies as I could that week and focused primarily on those I figure had shots at Academy Award nominations. In a three-day period, I saw “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” the foreign-language film directed by Ang Lee, “Ali,” the biopic that starred Will Smith as Muhammad Ali, and “Finding Forrester,” the drama in which Sean Connery tutors a young writer. By the time Friday came around, I was all “movied” out — not that I admitted this to myself, however, and not that it stopped me from seeing “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.”

That was a mistake. I would watch the movie again a year later and would enjoy it a great deal, but when I saw it that week, at the tail end of a ridiculous marathon of films, I was in no shape to endure a three-hour epic about wizards and hobbits.

I went to the movie knowing precious few details about Tolkien’s saga, as I am not one for the fantasy genre. I had seen an animated version of “The Hobbit” when I was a kid in the 1970s, but my memories of it were scarce. All I knew was that “Fellowship of the Ring” was the first in a trilogy.

I got restless at the half-way mark. I just wanted Frodo and his buddy to reach Mordor and do what they had to do and destroy the ring and be done with it. At the 180-minute mark I was thinking, hey, just give me the ring and I’ll get rid of it. I’ll chuck it into a lake, or something.

As you may recall, Frodo finally arrives, somewhat, and can see Mordor in the distance. Then the credits start to roll.

The guy in front of me turned to his girlfriend and said, “That’s it? We waited three hours to see a couple of hobbits get within, what, a few miles of the place? They’re not even gonna go there?” Evidently, he didn’t know two sequels were on their way in the years ahead.

Me, I was conflicted. There was no payoff, yet the movie was done and I was free to go home.

You know me. I love movies. But I’ve never treated myself to a movie marathon since. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

I prefer to see movies with Valerie or friends. If there’s a movie that Valerie does not want to see — most likely an action flick or a bit of science fiction — I’ll go see it with my friend Gary here in town or my friend Dave in Massachusetts. I already have plans to see the new “Die Hard” movie in Boston next month.

These days, with a family and work and a variety of obligations, I go off to see a movie alone only two or three times a year. I enjoy it every time, even if the movie falls far short of the ol’ four-star mark. There’s definite joy in treating yourself to a pastime you’ve known your whole life. For you, that pastime might be baseball or reading.